Glimpses of Companions Past
by Fenton Hardy Fan
Summary: The Doctor and Clara are stuck in an out of the way corner of the TARDIS in which are stored the myriad bedrooms of his past Companions. With some persuasion from Oswald, The Doctor tells her of several of them who traveled with him in his past. (Contains both Classic and New Doctors with invented Companions.)
1. Day 1: Lost in the TARDIS

**Author's Note: This story is actually a collection of stories about several different incarnations of The Doctor and a variety of original companions bound together by a frame with Clara and Twelve. Frame text is in **_**Italics**_**. Both Fenton Hardy Fan and Namialus are writing the story; this chapter is the work of the aforementioned Fenton Hardy Fan. **

"_Doctor?" Clara walked into the console room from the confusing labyrinth of corridors contained in the rest of the TARDIS, "She's hiding my room again."_

"_Nonsense," The Doctor turned away from the chalkboard to look at Clara as he defended his TARDIS._

"_Yes, nonsense is exactly what the TARDIS is throwing my way tonight. I've found seven bathrooms, an arboretum, the library, both kitchens, and a room full of cricket stuff. But I can't find my bedroom!" Clara strode her way across the room to where The Doctor stood as she continued. "You keep telling me that the TARDIS is helpful and shows the rooms we need, so why does it so often hold back the one room I'm looking for?" _

_Sighing, The Doctor took a step towards her. "You've been with me long enough to find your own room, Clara."_

"_I have, and I would be able to if the TARDIS didn't keep sabotaging my efforts."_

"_Now you're cross. You're spirited enough in a good mood, but when you can't control something you get cross. And when you're tired and out of control you get very cross." _

"_You are not helping my mood right now, Doctor," pointed out Clara as she crossed her arms._

"_So now it's my fault?" He set down the chalk harder than needed. "You don't have a reliable sense of direction so why not blame me?" _

_In her irritation, Clara placed pauses in her sentence for emphasis, "Please, just show me to my room."_

_The Doctor unexpectedly smiled at her, "Of course."_

_Clara followed him out of the console room. At first all seemed well, but after about two minutes she began to suspect that The Doctor did not know where they were any more than she did. While she continued to walk along beside and just slightly behind him, Clara noticed that they seemed to be walking the same four corridors repeatedly. Yes, there was the door with "Nat" scratched into its surface, which they already walked past three times. After a few more futile turns, The Doctor began acting noticeably agitated as he discovered not only his complete inability to find Clara's bedroom, but also the undeniable fact that they seemed to be trapped in a square of corridors without an exit. Finally, he gave up, "Clara, you wanted your bedroom, didn't you?"_

_She nodded, "That's right."_

"_The good news is I appear to have discovered an entire segment of the TARDIS dedicated to nothing but bedrooms. Unfortunately, your room does not appear to be among them."_

"_You have this many spare rooms?" asked Clara, stepping up to the nearest door._

"_I didn't say they were spares. You're not my first traveling companion, Clara."_

"_These are the bedrooms of your previous companions? This I have to see."_

"_No, don't—" he held up a hand as he spoke._

_Clara opened the door._


	2. Day 2: After a Fashion (Part 1)

**Author's Note: This chapter is the work of Fenton Hardy Fan and is dedicated to Kenobi-Wan, who helped us realize what the Eleventh Doctor really needed was a Companion with similar fashion sense.**

_Clara stood in the doorway of a room not so different from her own in structure. Reaching out, she felt along the wall for a light switch. Although she never found one, the lights lit of their own accord. "I think the TARDIS definitely wants me to look around."_

"_Clara," from behind her The Doctor tried to call her away from the room. _

_Ignoring him, she stepped inside. A shoe rack filled to capacity sat in one corner. Beside it, a closet door stood slightly ajar. On one of the walls, a pair of Star Wars posters nestled up against a trio of yellow circles not unlike those found in the console room. Quickly observing what appeared to be a knocked over picture frame on the bedside table, Clara walked over and picked it up. Although feelings of reverence continued to well up inside her at the thought of standing in another of The Doctor's traveling companions' rooms, she hid them with an overly confident demeanor. When she flipped the frame over to see the picture, Clara began to laugh. In center frame stood a pair of figures on what appeared to be a hiking trail. One Clara recognized as Amy Pond, who stood with an unknown young man in his teenaged years. Both of them were grinning at the camera and holding onto what appeared to be large fuzzy rabbits wearing little top hats. At the right hand side of the photograph, Clara recognized the profile of Rory Williams. He appeared to be confused and talking during the instant caught by the camera and was only in half in the picture due to him leaning into it over a large boulder. And best of all, on the left side of the picture and off in the background, The Doctor appeared to be losing his balance and falling off of a large rock at the side of the path. _

"_I know about most of the people in this picture, Doctor, but not him." She pointed to the tall, gangly young man in center frame. Was this his room?"_

"_It most certainly is Jay's room," the Doctor replied, startling Clara, who missed the sounds of his entrance. _

"_Jay?"_

"_Jay Jones, Fashion Extraordinaire."_

"_Now I know your pulling my leg," grinned back Clara, "no one has a name like that."_

_"There are far more uncommon names than Jay Jones," began The Doctor, but Clara interrupted him._

"_No one describes themselves as a 'Fashion Extraordinaire.'"_

"_Neither did he, although it did say that on his business cards."_

"_How on Earth did you pick up a card carrying Fashion Extraordinaire?" _

"_You're not going to shut up until I tell you?" asked The Doctor, already knowing the answer._

"_The sooner you start talking, the sooner we can move on to the next room." She grinned at him, watching The Doctor's slightly panicked expression with eager eyes until he finally began._

With a final, echoing, thud, the TARDIS landed. Eagerly, The Doctor called out, "And here we are!"

"And, where is 'here' exactly?" asked Rory as he tried to make sense of the information displayed on the screen mounted over the console.

"Earth, United States, North Carolina, a few years into your future," replied The Doctor, flipping a final toggle switch.

Amy opened the TARDIS doors, "It's a Goodwill Store," she read the sign on the building in front of her. After closely looking the storefront over she continued, "You brought us to a charity shop?" Amy planted a hand on her hip.

"Don't be ridiculous, Amy," The Doctor disagreed, walking over with Rory at his heels.

"Good, I need to keep you away from outdated accessories," she smiled pointedly at The Doctor's bow tie.

"This is a thrift store," the Time Lord finished his sentence as soon as Amy stopped talking, almost as if pretending she never opened her mouth in the first place.

"Aren't they basically the same, charity shops and thrift stores?" pointed out Rory.

"Well come on then, Ponds" declared The Doctor, ignoring his Companions' dubious expressions as he strode out the TARDIS doors.

Upon entering the Goodwill, The Doctor glanced around. A dark skinned woman in a blue, employee's vest stood at the register. Across the store, a Hispanic man restocked the bookshelves from a cart while older pop music quietly played overhead. Tiredly, a mother watched as her two young children dug through a large bin of stuffed animal toys. In another aisle, a tall, skinny, young man looked through the coats. While an elderly woman perused the purses hanging on pegs near the front checkout counter, a teenaged girl glanced through the CDs displayed on wire racks. All seemed to be as it should.

"Why are we here exactly?" Rory asked quietly.

"Oh, no reason in particular, just popping in for a friendly visit."

Rory and Amy shared a look, "You don't know how to make a friendly visit," Amy pointed out, "so, why are we here—and don't claim you're looking to expand your wardrobe."

Confidently striding past the register, reaching into his breast pocket, and whipping out his sonic screwdriver, The Doctor decided he may as well explain, "The TARDIS has been picking up some very peculiar energy readings from this store. So we're here to investigate." He extended the four prongs of his sonic screwdriver to accentuate his last point.

Amy sighed. "What do you want Rory and I to do while you prance around waving your sonic screwdriver at everything?"

The Doctor, who was already busy prancing and sonic-ing, (not that he worded it that way to himself,) paused mid-motion, "Go," he paused for a second, thinking, "look around for anything alien."

Rory shrugged before turning and walking over to a rack of trousers. He checked the hangers for any hidden technology, attempting to look as if he was shopping for clothes. Simply deciding to start with what interested her, Amy chose a rack of skirts. When she had checked over about half of them, she heard the young man in the next aisle give an exclamation of quiet surprise. Amy looked up from the skirts, their hangers, and the metal pole they hung from to see why the kid reacted to a jacket. Running his hands over it carefully, the young man seems fascinated. "It's mine," he muttered, "it can't be, but it's mine."

"Maybe your Mum gave it away without you noticing," offered up Amy as way of explanation, "or it only looks like yours."

Looking up from the jacket and into Amy's eyes, the tall young man's expression could roughly be translated to mean, "Do I know you?" However, his actual spoken response contained rebuttals to her theories, "My Mom didn't give it away; I just saw it in my room two days ago. And maybe it could only be a copy of my jacket, but look at this little tear," he pointed to something near the hem, "I just made that exact same rip in mine last week."

"That's a, little, weird…" Amy's voice trailed off as she noticed the next skirt on the rack she had continued to rifle through even as she tried to gauge whether this jacket incident should be reported to The Doctor. Before her hung a perfect replica of one of her favorite skirts, one she knew must be hanging in her closet back in Leadworth. Across the aisle, the young man pulled the jacket off of its hanger and tried it on. Amy lovingly took up the skirt, turning it over in her hands. A single thought wormed its way to the forefront of her mind, this was _her_ skirt. And since she currently stood in America, there was no conceivable way such a thing could be possible. "Listen," she ordered, "stay right there, I'll be back with someone who might be able to explain what's going on here."

The Doctor stood by a hat display. To his disappointment, not a fez was to be seen anywhere, although a large and tempting straw specimen was calling for his attention. Here at the back of the store, the energy readings were just the slightest bit stronger than near the front. When he paused to consider the implications for a moment, Amy walked up and broke his train of thought almost immediately. "What is it, Pond?" he asked with a hint of irritation coming through in his delivery.

Amy held up a skirt for him to see. "This is mine."

"If you want to shop instead of—"

"You don't understand. Doctor, this is exactly like mine, down to the smallest detail. And there was this kid, he found a jacket exactly like one he has at home. It was ripped in the same place as his. It can't be a coincidence."

The Doctor took the skirt from Amy, scanning it with his sonic screwdriver. "Oh ho, aren't you a clever little beauty."

"What is it?" asked Amy impatiently.

"Shape shifting material paired with a low level telepathic field on the surface, and some very subtle mind control technology hidden underneath."

"The skirt," Amy crossed her arms, "is a mind control device."

"It's rather brilliant. The telepathic field reads the mind of a nearby human and works in conjunction with the shape shifting capabilities of the material to take the form of a favorite item of clothing. If the person then tries on the clothing the close contact enables the device to implant its own thoughts into the wearer's head. The longer the exposure, the stronger the effect. And the best bit is," he tossed the skirt to his Companion, "no one ever thinks to remove their jacket, or hat, or trousers once they've put them on. It actively uses the positive associations in your mind against you to prevent you from even thinking of such a thing."

"Soooo," Amy stretched out the word, "this skirt and that kid's jacket, they're what caused your weird energy readings, yeah?

"Oh, Pond, I couldn't pick up on these readings from the TARDIS. This is designed to slip under the radar so to speak. But I would wager the person responsible for placing these items in this Goodwill is also involved with the origins of the peculiar energy readings. Now, where did you say this kid was standing?"

"Over there," Amy pointed with her left hand as she held the skirt away from herself with her right as if it were contaminated, "by the jackets."

"Right-O," answered The Doctor as he set off in the direction she pointed. Amy fell into step beside him. Unfortunately, when they arrived where the young man stood, they discovered he no longer stood there.

"I told him to stay put," complained Amy.

"Usually I'm the one saying that," commented The Doctor.

Rolling her eyes, Amy refused to respond to the statement. However, after a moment spent looking about, she reached out and violently slid aside one of the hangers. After repeating the action several times with other nearby jackets hanging neatly from the metal rod, she announced, "The jacket he claimed to be the same as his own is missing. Doctor, I remember him trying on the jacket as I was going to get you. What has happened to him?"

"That would depend on what the clothing is programed to plant into his mind."

As her hand fell from its resting place on top of the rack and fell to her side, Amy ordered, "Right, so let's just tell Rory what the trouble is and find this kid."

"Rory!" shouted The Doctor loudly enough to be heard from anywhere in the store.

When no reply was shouted back at them, Amy at once jumped to the conclusion she dreaded most, "Rory tried on one of the mind control fashion accessories." For a second, she and The Doctor stood in silence thinking over the possible outcomes of this event. "Find him. Use your sonic screwdriver and find him now." Her voice almost sounded threatening in its intensity.


	3. Day 3: After a Fashion (Part 2)

**Author's Note: This chapter is written by Fenton Hardy Fan. Both she and Namialus would like to thank those who have followed and favorited this story, it means a lot to us.**

Moments after Amy walked away, the "kid" thought that there might be better selection if he went into the back of the store, the place marked "Employees Only" on a pair of double doors. Normally, such a thought would never be acted upon, but now, for some reason, it seemed absolutely brilliant. After all, he wanted to see everything here in order to create the best wardrobe ever. When he pushed open one of the grey doors with a little round window at the top, at first all he observed were boxes of books in the forefront with racks of clothing behind them. Further in, he thought he saw what might have been a pegboard with hats. Just as he reached them however, he finally stood in a position to see into the next room through the windows on the next set of double doors. What appeared to be a complex machine in a state of partial dismantlement sat in the middle of the room. Cables ran from it in all directions, puffs of vapor occasionally escaped from maintenance hatches, and a trio of people in some sort of protective gear appeared to be attempting to fix it.

"I really don't think you should be back here," said a voice from behind him, causing him to jump and almost yell in surprise.

Whirling around, the "kid" saw a very unthreatening looking man who seemed to be looking at him with a concerned expression. "Why not?" he replied before turning away.

"It could be dangerous," answered the man as he grabbed his arm and turned him back. Then the man saw what the room on the other side of the doors contained, "Make that definitely dangerous."

"Do you work here?" asked the kid as he wondered whether he should talk the man away or just slip out of his grasp and run.

"No, but I have considerably more experience with things that are alien. And it seems like usually they turn out to be dangerous."

Extracting his arm from the man's grip, the "kid" abruptly shoved open the right door and stepped into the room. He loved science fiction, and with every neuron in his mind he determined to see this machine up close. Surely he would be safe enough. Behind him, the man still spoke, but anything said went in one ear and out the other. Slowly, one of the two tall figures turned and removed its helmet, revealing a beautiful female face framed by glossy straight brown hair. "Welcome," she spoke with a friendly voice and an accent closer to American than English, "what are your names?" As she spoke, the other two figures also turned to face the two intruders, pulling off their protective head gear also.

"My name's Rory," the man responded reluctantly, "I just followed him back here, and I think we'll be going now."

"And I'm Jay. Jay Jones. Is that a space ship?" asked the "kid," stepping closer.

The young woman laughed; she was probably in her early twenties. "I'm Aniala, and yes, this is a space ship. My ship, in fact, the _Yaj Chran_."

"And it looks like you have some important repair work to do, so we'll be leaving. Bye." Rory attempted to pull Jay out of the room, but discovered the doors opened towards him and had no handles.

"Repair work we would like your help with," spoke up the shortest of the three suited figures, another woman, this one with curly brown hair spilling over her shoulders. "These Power Couplings have been giving us a lot of trouble, even with the many helpful donations provided by your people."

Jay thought helping to fix this small space ship would be the most worthwhile task in the universe.

"_Wait a moment," interrupted Clara, "how do you know what he was thinking?"_

"_Clara, do you want me to tell this story or not?" The Doctor started to walk away, "It's ridiculous. Let's try and find our way back to the console room, or at least find a different Companion to talk about."_

"_You can't weasel out of this that easily, Doctor. Now come back here and finish the story. Obviously everything works out well enough in the end, otherwise he wouldn't have his own room."_

"_Your powers of deduction are as sharp as always," quipped The Doctor, but he returned to her side and sat on the foot of the bed. Clara grinned and seated herself on the edge of the mattress beside the pillow. _

"You can't let him work with Power Couplings," Rory exclaimed, "even with protective suits like yours, that could easily prove to be deadly unless you power down the engines."

"I don't dare shut off the engines," argued the curly haired woman, who seemed to be the one in charge of the repairs. "These are J type 351-PRATs, on a ship this small there's no restart system for them."

"Shut up, Aivilo," interjected Aniala before jumping down to the floor with an athlete's easy grace, "This one knows more about our technology than anyone from this primitive planet should. How?"

"Occasionally I help The Doctor with repairs on the TARDIS, although not since I dropped that Thermal Coupling a while back…"

"The TARDIS, is that your ship?"

"Well, it's not my ship, it belongs to The Doctor."

"How interesting." She turned to Jay, "Now, will you help me with the repairs?"

"Of course!" he exclaimed trying to walk towards the ship as Rory held him back.

When Aniala saw this she lifted her eyebrows in a helpless gesture, "Naeth," she called out. Behind her, the third figure raised a blow torch threateningly. He was the tallest, and even the hazard suit could not entirely hide his well-muscled frame. Keeping her eyes locked with Rory's, Aniala laid out a proposition, "I don't need someone under the age of twenty trying to fix my ship, but we've already been trapped on this backwater planet for one fourth of its orbit now, and the three of us must return to Xalag 3 with vital information about our Egelloc enemies. I would prefer not to watch a young man fry himself on our circuits, so to speak, but the three of us must survive. Now you, Rory, apparently followed that young man back here out of the goodness of your heart, so I'm going to offer to let you take his place. Will you?"

* * *

><p>Amy watched worriedly as The Doctor poked around in the store for a few minutes. After what felt like an eternity, he exclaimed, "Aha! The energy leakage is from back here." The sonic pointed at the double doors marked "Employees Only" which lead into the back portion of the store.<p>

Amy pushed past him and confidently shoved open the door on the left, "It's just more old clothes and books."

"And a fez!" exclaimed The Doctor as he caught sight of the pegboard holding various hats. Quickly he walked towards it, spinning around once as he reached it. He grabbed it off its peg.

"Doctor, look," cried Amy, who followed him to the hats. She pointed through the window of one of the second set of double doors. Inside the next room she could see Rory just finishing putting on some sort of hazard suit.

The Doctor stood beside her and looked through the window in the other door, "What is a Xalagian ship doing here?"

"Who cares about that, Doctor. What is Rory doing in a weird nuclear radiation protection suit!" She attempted to push the left door open but it had been locked shut somehow.

After watching the scene for a few seconds, The Doctor replied, "He's going to get himself killed trying to repair the Power Couplings of a powered up J type 351—"

"I don't care about the model number, Doctor, just get him out of there!"

"Right," The Doctor jammed the fez onto his head, used his sonic screwdriver on the doors, and dramatically pushed open both at once, "Rory, step away from those Power Couplings," he ordered. Amy entered the room as soon as the doors opened, watching her relieved husband stepped back as The Doctor continued, "Now, Mr. Pond, what is going on here?"

"These people are some kind of intelligence gathering party trying to return to their home planet. They crash landed here about three months ago and have spent the time since then trying to repair their ship," answered Rory.

Aniala strode up to The Doctor, "Who are you?"

Amy walked past The Doctor and the woman. When she reached Rory she spoke just louder than a whisper, "So, you didn't try on one of the mind control outfits after all." She smiled at him, "I'm so proud."

"Mind control outfits? Would those be made up of clothing identical to what I already own?" Rory responded in the same quite tone as The Doctor carried on an enthusiastic conversation with Aniala.

"Oh yes."

"Oh, and you thought I would say, 'hey, this is _exactly_ like my favorite hoodie. I may have found it in an American store a few years into the future in a store seeping odd energy readings, but I'm sure it's perfectly safe to try on."

"Not when you put it _that_ way," Amy punched him in the shoulder, "Listen, stupid, I was worried about you, take it as a compliment."

Rory put his arm around his wife's shoulders as The Doctor finished his conversation. "Alright, Ponds," he shouted up at them, "you can come down from the ship; I'm going to help these people home."

"I was hoping he would say that," murmured Rory before calling down to the young man standing at the base of the ship and staring at it with an empty fascination, "Jay, we're coming down now, and you'll need to leave with us."

"But I want to stay here!" argued Jay, looking up at last.

"Oh, Rory, we're not leaving just yet," exclaimed The Doctor, "I'm going to help Aniala fix her ship."

"But Doctor," argued Amy, "you said it would be suicide to attempt to mess with the Power Couplings while the engine runs."

"Never mind what I said, Amy. These people need my help."

"The fez," muttered Amy to herself.

"What?" Rory looked at her in confusion.

"The fez, he picked it up on the way back here," mused Amy, "Doctor!" she shouted down, "take off your fez before you come up, okay?"

"Amy, is now the right moment to criticize his fashion choices?" inquired Rory.

"Now is always the right moment to criticize his fashion choices, but that's beside the point. I think that fez is one of the mind control shape changing things. He was talking about them earlier while we looked for you; they take a person's natural interests and twist them around to suit the fancy of the device's creator." As Amy finished speaking, Naeth approached the couple threateningly with his blowtorch.

"If either of you makes an attempt to remove the red hat from The Doctor's head, I'm going to—" Naeth never had a chance to finish his threat. The Time Lord reached the edge of the ship and lifted a hand to grab the first rung of the ladder, but as he did so, Jay snatched the fez from The Doctor's head and slammed it onto his own cranium.

"Wooah, that's much better," The Doctor shouted, "and I never thought I'd say that about someone stealing my fez," he added as an aside.

"What!" Aniala sounded like a small child about to throw a fit, "Why would you even want an ugly hat like that, Jay?"

"Ugly? This is one of the coolest hats I've ever seen!" replied the teenager.

"Some of the most dangerous mind control technology I've ever seen," interjected The Doctor, "defeated by a young man's excellent fashion sense." He laughed. Suddenly he extended his hand through a nearby hatch and flipped several switches, turned a knob, and slammed his hand down on a large red button. "Now," he locked a pair of very serious eyes with Aniala as Aivilo started to panic and yellow lights began to flash. "I've just powered down your craft's engines," he whipped out his sonic screwdriver, "and on a Xalagan ship of this size and make, that means we're only a few minutes away from your craft activating its self-destruct mechanism. So all of us are going to head out my ship, which is parked out front. I'll take you home, but first we need to wait for your ship to finish melting into a gooey puddle of its base molecules so the three of you can help me perform a detox on the remains to prevent anyone living near here from contracting radiation sickness. Then, after a lecture on basic morality, I'll drop you off at your base. Now, if only there were a way to clear out the store until it's safe…" He activated his sonic screwdriver, and two seconds later the fire alarms all began to sound. "Everyone out!"

* * *

><p>Several hours later, The Doctor stood in the console room watching the trio exit the TARDIS. Once they had left, he turned to a wide eyed Jay Jones, who had finally been relieved of his mind controlling jacket and fez. Even when Jay's mind returned to normal away from the influence of the items, he clearly still wanted the fez for himself. "You may have saved my life today, Jay," he opened a conversation with the tall young man.<p>

"Saved your life? All he did was snatch away your awful fez, and you don't give me any thanks for doing that." Amy was playacting at being jealous.

"Oh all right, Pond," The Doctor turned back to Jay, "You saved my life, after a fashion. And because of your obvious love of fashion, I've decided to thank you by giving you a trip to the mall."

"The mall?" scoffed Amy.

"Yes, my favorite mall. It's just like any other mall, only in space. And the manager owes me a favor."

Jay nodded vigorously at the proposal, "Awesome."


	4. Day 4: Loving a Monster (Part 1)

**Author's Note: This chapter is written by Namialus and dedicated to our friend ShogunNararii, who inspired us to think that a certain American Companion needed some American company.**

_"And to whom does this room belong?" asked Clara, opening a door with the word 'Nat' scratched on it._

_"No one," said the Doctor, standing behind Clara. "She's not important." He motioned to grab the doorknob and close the door, but Clara quickly ran in before he could._

_"Who's Nat?" she said. "Another old companion I assume. She's got a nickname, so she has to be important," Clara smiled._

_The Doctor did not. "She's not important, and she's gone now. Let's just leave this room and you can ask about all the other companions." He walked out._

_Clara started to follow, but stopped to look at a book on the floor. Its covers were leather, and on it was also written the word 'Nat'. Flipping through it, Clara realized that it was a diary, and began to read._

Natalie ran down the sidewalk, trying to get to her home as quickly as possible. "New Sherlock episode," she thought. And she could not miss it. It was 8:15 on a Sunday evening, and the service at her church had finished just minutes before. The sun had set, and Sherlock was about to air in another 15 minutes. The house was too far. Walking home by her normal route would take 20 minutes, meaning she'd miss the first five minutes of the episode, and Natalie could never do that. "There is a shortcut," thought Natalie, turning her head to the right, where there was a path through a small, wooded swamp. It would lead her right to the street of her building in less than five minutes. Natalie walked through the dark trees.

For as long as she remembered, her parents had never allowed her to walk through the swamp alone, especially after dark. And there she was, strolling through it alone in the night, with nothing but the flashlight from her phone to lead her. It isn't that scary; Natalie smiled. But then she heard a roar. Natalie froze, searching for the source of that sound. Slowly, she moved her arm to light the forest, but there was nothing but the trees and the path ahead of her. It's probably just a bird, she thought, until she felt a slimy hand grabbing the back of her shirt, lifting her off her feet.

Screaming as loud as she could, Natalie shook and kicked and waved her arms around, trying to get rid of the attacker. She managed to land a kick against the attacker's face, and it dropped her. Turning around to see who it was, Natalie saw a large, green figure of a man who wore no clothes. As she continued to stare, she realized he had gills, a tail, and webbed feet. A swamp monster. Natalie screamed even louder, turning back again to run home, but she bumped into a blue door with the word "POLICE BOX" lit on it. The door opened from the inside, and a hand grabbed her arm and pulled her through. At once the door was slammed shut behind her, and Natalie sank back against it in shocked relief, allowing herself to slide to the floor.

However, she couldn't help but notice her surroundings even above her pounding heart and through her fear shrouded mind. Or perhaps she was hallucinating, because this scene seemed impossible. A man in a brightly colored coat stood beside her while holding a ridiculously complicated and oversized piece of equipment. Further on, a young woman stood beside a pyramid table covered with all sorts of switches, keypads, and monitors. Although the man wore black and yellow striped pants with what must have been the most atrociously multicolored coat in human history, and the woman wore a green skirt paired with a bright blue and orange plaid shirt, the overall impression was a blinding shade of white everywhere. The floor was white. The ceiling was white. The walls were white with brighter white round indentations decorating them.

"Are you going to lie there all day?" asked the man impatiently.

Natalie inhaled deeply, and her mind cleared somewhat, "What? Oh, I don't think so." _ Wow, way to sound intelligent, Natalie. _"Who are you?" she asked aloud as she sat up straighter. _  
><em>

"I, am The Doctor," announced the man with a somewhat theatrical manner and a British accent.

"And I'm Peri," added the young woman in an American accent Natalie could not quite place with a particular region.

"Natalie," she introduced herself as she prepared to stand up.

"Hello, Natalie, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance I'm sure. Now would you please move? You're blocking the door." The Doctor readjusted his grip on the bulky thing in his hands.

Out of annoyance, Natalie allowed herself to slump back against the door fully. "Where am I? How did you build this place in the swamp without anyone noticing? What's it for?"

"Doctor, I don't think a minute or two will make any difference, why don't you let Natalie recover at her own pace?" Peri suggested.

"I'm recovered, I just don't want to move until I get some answers," Natalie felt her sense of spunk returning as her initial shock wore off. "What are you holding, what are you doing, and what was that thing outside?" She crossed her legs in an attempt to look casual.

The blond man pointed energetically at Natalie, "Six questions, Peri, six! She has a curiosity to rival my own." He turned to look at his companion, "Why can't you incorporate more curiosity into your own personality?" Returning his attentions to the girl at his feet, The Doctor addressed Natalie, "To answer your questions: You're in my TARDIS. I didn't build it here in this wretched little swamp of yours, I moved it here in one piece. Its purpose is to travel through time and space, TARDIS is an acronym for Time and Relative Dimensions in Space. This is a tranquilizer gun I constructed out of spare parts. I'm going to use it on the creature which attacked you, a very misplaced and hungry Akuayam. Now please move."

"Okay," Natalie sprang to her feet, "let's do this."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: Okay, we were just kidding ShogunNatarii, we know you don't really like the Sixth Doctor, did you honestly think our chapters dedicated to you would be about him?<strong>

Screaming as loud as she could, Natalie shook and kicked and waved her arms around, trying to get rid of the attacker. She managed to land a kick against the attacker's face, and it dropped her. Turning around to see who it was, Natalie saw a large, green figure of a man who wore no clothes. As she continued to stare, she realized he had gills, a tail, and webbed feet. A swamp monster. Natalie screamed even louder, turning back again to run home, but she bumped into a blue door with the word "POLICE BOX" lit on it. The door opened from the inside, and an arm grabbed her arm and pulled her through.

Natalie tripped onto the cold, hard floor of the phone box. She stared, her eyes widening in shock. _It's bigger on the inside._ "Where am I?" she said, worried that she was about to be kidnapped. "What is this place?" And then she looked at the man standing above her in a blue suit, and said, "And who are you?"

The man ran up the steps of the entrance towards a large console in the centre of the box. "You're in the TARDIS," he said, grinning. "It's a time machine," he said, playing with the controls. "And I'm the Doctor."

"Doct-doctor?" Natalie asked, standing up. "Doctor what?"

"Well," the Doctor said, "people don't normally put it that way… but that's not important. What is important is that there is a Akuayam from the planet Akuyarathafalimatorya out in your swamp right now and it might hurt a few people, so I'm trying to catch it and take it home."

The 'Doctor' spoke too fast for Natalie to understand half of what he had just said. "Catch it? It tried to eat me!"

"Well, actually, it only tried to suck your blood as its body is incapable of digesting solid foods," the Doctor said, running around the console.

"Suck my blood?" asked Natalie. "That doesn't make it much better!"

"Didn't think it would," the Doctor said, staring at a screen on the console. "Hmmmm… what should we do now…"

"Kill it!" shouted Natalie. "It'll hurt people."

"What is up with you humans and killing whatever you don't like?" the Doctor asked. "No, we won't kill it…"

"I'm not going back out there until you capture it then."

"You're just as stubborn as Donn-" the Doctor stopped, "nevermind."

"I want to go home," said Natalie.

"I assumed you did. Why were you walking home through that swamp anyway?"

"Um," Natalie said. Her reason for it probably sounded more ridiculous now that she had almost lost her life. "New episode of Sherlock…" Natalie checked the time. 8:30. "But I missed it now."

"Oh, Sherlock, love that show," said the Doctor. "You will cry at the end of Series 22. Now, go back out there."

"And kill myself?" asked Natalie. "No thanks."

The Doctor snapped his fingers and the TARDIS doors reopened. "The creature's gone, it's safe now."

Natalie looked through the doorway. There were no sounds in the swamp, only the path that would lead her home. "Where'd it go?"

"Probably found some prey- nevermind!" the Doctor shouted as the creature reappeared in the doorway, jumping at Natalie and into the TARDIS. The girl screamed.

"Get… him… off…. me….!" Natalie shouted, struggling under the monster's body weight. He smelled horrible, and his jagged teeth had blood stains on them. Attempting to bite Natalie's neck, the monster lunged at her. "HELP ME!"

After the loud sound of a 'bang', the creature suddenly stopped moving. Natalie slid out from under him, turning to find the Doctor holding a very large gun. "Stun gun," the Doctor said. "He'll be up in an hour… now let's take him home, shall we?" he smiled at Natalie.

"But what about me? I want to go home too," said Natalie. "My parents will worry."

"This box can travel throughout all of space and time. We can drop the Akuayam off, go to a cafe in Paris, and then take a walk through Egypt, and I'll still be able to drop you off before Sherlock begins. Now, what do you say?" The Doctor crossed his arms and leaned against the console.

Natalie wanted to say no, to listen to her parents and just go home, but the offer was difficult to refuse. "Too good to refuse," she thought, and with a smile, Natalie nodded.


	5. Day 5: Loving a Monster (Part 2)

**Author's Note: Both Fenton Hardy Fan and Namialus worked on this chapter.**

After they had dropped off the creature, Natalie sat on one of the chairs in front of the TARDIS console. "You said all of space and time," Nat reminded the strange man in a blue suit.

"I did," said the Doctor. "Any particular place?"

"Where are you from?" asked Natalie, but quickly regretted it. The Doctor's smile vanished and he bowed his head. "Uh, sorry…"

"Just not there," said the Doctor.

"Why not?" Natalie asked, without thinking.

"Because it's not a good place," he said. "Not anymore."

"Fine. What are you?"

"What?" said the Doctor.

"You don't talk about us like you're human. Which would make you an alien. What are you?" Natalie had always been a curious child, always asking questions until she annoyed whoever she was asking. Annoying the Doctor may not have been the wisest choice, but Nat had to know.

"I'm a Time Lord, from Gallifrey," he replied.

"Gallifrey? That's your homeworld? It doesn't sound too bad," Natalie smiled. "I'm sure it's beautiful."

"It's gone."

Natalie stared at the Doctor. He had been a happy man when she'd first seen him. _Now he looks… lonely... heartbroken even__._ Natalie marveled at the change, and looked back with an expression almost of pity. "Why is it gone?"

"You ask too many questions," the Doctor said.

"So I've been told," said Nat.

"I destroyed it," he answered her right before she decided he would never respond. Natalie's eyes widened. "You wanted to know, didn't you? I destroyed my planet. I destroyed Gallifrey. And now I'm running away, just a sad little man in a box."

"I- I'm sorry," Natalie frowned. "I didn't mean to bother you like that." She needed to ask one more question after this horrible revelation, "Why did you destroy it?"

"You really don't know when to stop, do you?" the Doctor faintly smiled at her. "It was a war, and both sides had to be stopped. The Daleks… and my people. So I ended it. I had to."

"Daleks?"

"You don't want to know."

Natalie let the subject drop; mentioning Daleks brought a steely look into The Doctor's eyes that she found alarming, especially from a man who claimed to have killed his entire species. A little thought rattling in the back of her mind came to the forefront as the man finally looked down at his ship's controls. She should go home. Already she had been attacked by an, Ak, Aka, Akyum... Swamp Monster Guy, twice. Then she'd gotten a glimpse of an alien world with a very long name as she had helped The Doctor drag the... Alien out of the TARDIS. Apparently this machine also traveled through time and she could get home before Sherlock began, and her parents would hardly approve of her accepting a trip from a complete stranger, even if it were educational.

Glancing up from his lever pulling, button pushing, dial tapping, and who knew what else, The Doctor asked, "So, where would you like to go-" he interrupted himself, "What's your name?"

"Natalie," she purposely did not give her last name, to do so would have felt wrong somehow, like using it on the internet.

"Well, Natalie, all of time and space," he smiled at her fetchingly, "and I'm offering you a trip to any of it. Any time, any person, any object, any place, any event, what would you like?"

She hesitated.

Seeing this, he continued, "Give me a chance to make up for the Akuayam attacking you."

She heard such loneliness in his voice, but she needed to turn him down, needed to do as her parents would want, needed to go home. But while her mind talked her in one direction, in her heart she wanted to stay here a little while longer; she could almost feel adventure floating in the air. "I... I should go..." Natalie made the mistake of looking into the man's eyes and discovered she could not look away. Helplessly she gazed back at him, reading so much sorrow and kindness in his face even as he smiled cheerily.

"You like the show "Sherlock?" asked The Doctor, confirming her previous mention of the program.

Glad to answer such an easy query, she nodded vigorously, "I love it."

"Who's your favorite?"

"Sherlock."

"How would you like," he paused to dramatically spin a weird looking thing on the control board, "to meet Benedict Cumberbatch?"

We could do that?" asked Natalie incredulously, eyes widening.

"Oh Benedict and I go way back. We could swing by, watch a bit of filming, perhaps pick up an autograph, and then have you home before anyone ever knew you were away. What do you say?"

"I say," Natalie felt torn. Why did she feel as if her answer now might effect the rest of her life? That would be silly, one trip with this man could not shape her destiny. Taking a deep breath, she finally answered, "Let's go."

* * *

><p><em>The Doctor stopped talking and Clara allowed him a second's pause, but no more. "Did she get his autograph?" she asked, hoping this would nudge him along. <em>

_"__What?" he snapped out of whatever reverie consumed his mind,"Of course she did, once we'd cleared up the point that I was in fact the same 'Doctor' as the one with the frilly shirt, and the one with the insanely long scarf, and the one with the celery, and the one with the shoulder length hair."_

_After this answer failed to move along the conversation, Clara reopened the diary. She flipped through a few pages, ah yes, here was Natalie's recounting of her day on the set of "The Blind Banker." Not surprisingly, their return journey failed to work as The Doctor planned. Instead of landing near her house just in time for Natalie to catch the first episode of "Series 4," the two of them landed on a nearly deserted mining spaceship under attack from a shape-shifting creature. Turning ahead, Clara observed that she and The Doctor traveled afterwards to Ancient Greece to see the Parthenon. As she read, Clara found herself remembering her own first trips with the Time Lord. Eventually, she found Natalie's record of an event which she recognized as one of importance. The Doctor and Natalie had just finished another adventure on the red mining spaceship, and The Doctor was cracking jokes about all of time and space and still managing to accidentally run into the same lousy ship twice. But then, as Natalie put it: _ I started to head back to the the bedroom he had assigned to me a couple of adventures ago, when he grabbed my shoulder and kept me from leaving. In his other hand I saw he held a simple key strung on a brown cord. "This is for you," he said as he let the key fall from his grip to swing gently from its string. "What is it?" I asked, taking it out of curiosity. "This," The Doctor let go of the cord as he answered, "is a key to the door of my TARDIS." I must have looked pretty surprised because he smiled at me and said I deserved it. To be honest, I did not yet realize the implications of what he had just done, but I hung it around my neck anyway. I flat out asked what this meant, (you know me Diary, I'm always asking questions,) and he looked at me with an expression I would expect parents make at their children's graduation ceremonies. "It means, Natalie, that the TARDIS is your home now, if you want it to be." Home. yes, I could see this ship becoming my home, a sentiment which has only grown in me with each passing hour since he first told me. I find it funny now when I read over my indecision about coming on my first trip, funny and sad; I almost passed on traveling with the most incredible man to the most amazing places! Every now and then I want to go back to my family, but I know if I do then I probably won't be allowed to come back. And as much as I liked Church and Youth Group and Homeschooling through high school, I don't think I could face an endless stretch of such a life anymore. I'm like John now, addicted to a certain lifestyle of action and adventure. Probably, I should be bothered by this, but I'm not. P.S. I still haven't seen "Sherlock Series 4," but The Doctor says when I wake up maybe we can go catch "Episode 1" in theaters. He even promised we can cosplay at the event if I want. CAN'T WAIT! P.P.S. And honestly, cosplaying would give me the perfect chance to wash my outfit again, I wish I'd been wearing more than one outfit all those days ago, but back in Florida that would have been not only weird but also unbearably hot.


	6. Day 6: And Darkness Falls (Part 1)

**Authors' Note: This chapter is written by Fenton Hardy Fan. It should be rather obvious to whom it is dedicated. :P The authors would like to thank everyone who kept reading all the way to Chapter 6! Tonally, each story should be somewhat different from the others, but we'll be writing the circuit of Companions again, so if you prefer the lighthearted Jay Jones type stories, don't worry, they'll be back. :) (Uh, oh, we might be heading into rambling mode. Fortunately, these 'Authors' Notes' are usually the last bit written so cohesive writing will follow.) **

_As Clara entered the third room she had selected at random from the myriad choices in the hall, her eyes slightly widened in surprise. The Doctor simply stood in the doorway, unmoving, unspeaking, unsettled. Only Clara physically pulling him into the room would make him step foot into its confines. Jay's room had more or less matched the current TARDIS interior design, Natalie's room appeared to be in the more organic style used before her first Doctor came to be, but this room looked nothing like any format ever used on this ship. The ceiling appeared to be a sheet of glass through which one could watch the infinite glory of outer space. Black walls and a white and black tile floor continued the strange motif. Hesitantly, Clara walked further in. Atop the neatly made bed, a short sword with a t-shaped handguard and a dark leather sheath caught her attention. Emblazoned on the surface of the sleek case, in slender gold letters, the word "Namialus" drew her gaze. Unsettlingly perfect in its placement on the bed, the sword brought to Clara's mind unformed thoughts of the tombs of kings. With effort, she looked elsewhere. A wooden nightstand beside the bed held nothing but a small switch in one corner. When Clara pressed the switch a compartment opened in the top, and she peered inside to see a large black book. Reverently lifting it from the nightstand, Clara wondered what it contained. As she gently turned the opened the book, a hologramatic image of a beautiful woman in her late twenties sprung from the inside cover. Clara read the text on the first page aloud._

My name is Namialus Ramo. Experience taught me skill with a blaster. Tradition instructed me in the ancient art of swordplay. Necessity drilled stealth and cunning into my methods. I have stood upon one hundred different worlds, discovered and lost great treasures, tangled with the law, and upheld it also. On the very day I burst forth into this universe from within my Mother's womb, a great war began. The greatest war. The Last Great Time War. Fate decreed my part to play in this universe should be bound-up with fire, and destruction, and death. During my twenty-second year I crossed paths and joined with a great man. An incredible genius. A valiant warrior. Now I fight beside him in the great conflict devouring all of creation. I am the Companion to the man who once called himself "The Doctor," and this is the event which set my course in history.

"_That's rather dramatic," Clara looked up from the first page of the book in her hands._

"_Yes. Well, Nam was rather fond of a melodramatic portrayal of a situation," replied The Doctor, looking as if he wanted to speedily walk out of the room and leave its contents buried. "He conveniently left out that he sounded like a Canadian and once almost drowned in a vat of melted chocolate." _

"_Mmm, I can think of worse ways to die."_

"_So could he; and he found one, I assure you. Now can we please go? I've already told you about two of my previous traveling companions. Isn't that enough?"_

_Clara once again used her ready answer, "According to you, the TARDIS directs us to the rooms it thinks we need. It must want you to remember this Namallious person."_

"_Namialus," corrected The Doctor, "And the story about how we met isn't nearly as incredible as he would make it out to be. I was only there to recruit one of my former companions named Melanie Bush to help recover an ancient Time Lord weapon from a planet in the midst of a civil war." He paused for a second, considering his words, "That came out sounding much more interesting than I intended."_

Two figures stood before a picture window, both gazing into the infinite stellar landscape flowing past. On the right, a short woman with long brown hair held an electronic clipboard in her left hand. Floating behind her right shoulder, a gunmetal gray cube studded with five spikes and inlaid with a small screen quietly played an electronic melody. To the woman's left, a tall man leaned against the glass, resting his weight on his left forearm. At the young man's left hip a short sword stood sheathed in its leather case, which was embossed along its length with golden letters spelling out his name, Namialus. When a gentle chime interrupted the song, the woman sighed.

"Incoming call from Commander Bush," intoned a modulated male voice as the device floated around to face her.

"Complete the connection, Spiffy," she instructed her hovering companion.

"Connected," spoke the device as its screen changed from a dark green to light blue. Then its voice changed as the person on the other end spoke, "Leftenant Teneb, could you please report to my office?"

"Of course, Mel," the woman tossed her hair over her shoulder as she lifted her clipboard and tapped out something, "I'll be right there."

Namialus smiled; only Elocin was close enough to the commander use her nickname. But then, thought Nam, she was the commander's protégé and assistant, just as he was to Glitz. Of course, the girls managed to be friends in a way that he could never be with Captain Glitz. While his mentor was certainly good at being a mercenary, Namialus could not bring himself to respect a man with no sense of honor, and he certainly would not befriend such a person. Fortunately, he did not need either respect or friendship in order to learn from Glitz these last seven years. Now, in his twenty-second year, he practically ran the Nosferatu ll during normal operations, turning over command only during unusual missions. (An arrangement that suited Sabalom Glitz quite well as it left him much more time to use his wealth to pursue pleasure.)

"Good, see you then. Melanie out." As the connection broke, Spiffy's screen once again dimmed to a sickly green.

"I've got to go, Nam," Elocin redundantly announced with a slightly annoyed looking smile.

"Go on then," encouraged Namialus, pushing himself away from the window.

"Duty calls," she replied, with a genuine smile this time. Spinning childishly on her right foot, Elocine called back, "Are we still on for the shooting range tonight?"

"Yeah, sure." Nam tried to sound enthusiastic about it, but he did not love firearms like Elocine, preferring the graceful violence of swordplay. And she always outshot him too. Abruptly, Namialus drew his sword and began to cycle through all six of the Sataraw velocities. Strike, parry, strike, parry, thrust, he lost himself in the exercise. When a strange noise began to reverberate through the empty white corridor, Nam paused. Suspecting danger, he whirled around while holding up his custom blade in an aggressive pose.

All that met his gaze was a tall blue box emblazoned with words that made sense on their own but seemed a confusing mishmash when combined to make phrases such as "OFFICER AND CARS RESPOND TO ALL CALLS." Okay, he didn't actually know what a car was, but all the other words seemed real enough. Mysteriously appearing blue boxes might be extremely dangerous, so Namialus kept his guard up as he took a step closer. From inside it, one of the box's doors opened inward, and Nam glimpsed grey walls studded with brighter round indentations of uncertain purpose behind a man in a brown coat.

"Who are you?" asked Namialus in a tone that rang out like a threat rather than a question.

The man, who appeared to be in his thirties, seemed more amused by this display than anything, and he certainly didn't appear to feel the least bit intimidated. "I'm looking for Melanie Bush, could you point me in the right direction?"

"You didn't answer my question."

"This is the _Nosferatu II_ isn't it? I called ahead and left a message for Mel—What day is it?" The stranger stepped out of his impossible box which appeared to Namialus to be larger inside than the outside would allow for. A wall mounted panel containing a clock and communication panel caught the man's curious gaze, "Oh, I see, my call hasn't come through yet. That's the trouble with time travel," he looked over at Nam as if this last statement cleared everything up.

"You won't be able to con your way past me with such a ludicrous story."

The man sighed, "Typical."

"What's typical, that no one falls for a weird time travel explanation for why you're not expected?" Namialus took a half-step closer.

"No, typical that I run into an idiot, Glitz doesn't choose his lackeys for their intelligence."

"Lackey. Lackey! Me, a _lackey_! Listen here, I all but run this ship Mister—"

"Doctor," interrupted the man in the leather coat.

"What?"

"I'm," the man checked himself, "a doctor."

"I don't care if your title is Doctor, Nurse, Professor, General, Leftenant, or Sir. If you don't come quietly to the brig your prefix is going to be 'the late.'"

"I'll just come back in an hour," spoke the man placatingly before turning to walk back to his boxy, wooden crate of a ship.

"Freeze!" ordered Nam. Immediately, he realized the man intended to continue, so Namialus sliced his sword forward to wound him. Inexplicably, his intention turned sour as the man whirled about and stepped towards him while raising a hand which sent the blade swishing harmlessly past his body. Or had the man simply sidestepped the blade, using the hand as some sort of feint? Namialus began to formulate the thought that the stranger might outclass him at hand-to-hand, but everything moved too quickly for him to properly think at all. Now the stranger was standing hip-to-hip with Namialus, but only for a fraction of a second, for as the man's hand clasped Nam's wrist, the young swordsman felt his own momentum pushing himself off balance. With a quick series of motions Namialus failed to observe clearly, the man forced him to the ground and the blade from his hand. Nam expected a quick death. However, the man simply held the sword to his throat.

"I need to speak to Melanie Bush on a matter of extreme importance to both the Time Lords and the general well-being of this time zone. There is also a sizeable reward in it for Glitz and his crew if all of you agree to help me recover an ancient Gallifreyan artifact from a nearby planet."

Namialus blinked. "You should have mentioned wanting to hire us sooner. I'll take you to Commander Bush, and she'll determine if your proposal is up to her legal and ethical standards. If she gives you the okay, then you can hammer out the particulars with Glitz if he thinks there's enough profit in it for him." Without moving, Nam asked, "Can I have my sword back now, or do we need to keep up this whole prisoner thing until you've satisfied yourself that I've taken you to the Commander?"

Minutes later, Namialus walked down another corridor with a sword at his neck, casually informing anyone they passed that everything was under control, or not to worry, or that this man was a potential client. Inside he cringed at the complete indignity of the situation, but as he still suspected that this man far outclassed him in hand-to-hand combat and no one seemed to be in immediate danger, Nam put up with it. After what felt like an eternity, they finally arrived at the door to the Commander's office. Hesitantly, Namialus pressed the doorbell.

"Come in," chirped the Commander's voice over the intercom as the door slid open.

"Commander," began Namialus, wishing the man had allowed him to use the intercom to call ahead. The two women sat across from one another at a square table, in many ways a perfect picture of contrast. The Commander sat on the left, her red hair permed into very tight curls, and while her clothing was not as odd as it once had been, she still clearly preferred shirts with "puff" to the sleeves and lots of elastic included in the design. Elocin, on the other hand, showed, off sleek, long, dark hair, and as always when she worked aboard the _Nosferatu II_, her clothing was all about smooth, flowing lines. Both of them appeared to be going over some paperwork, although at the moment of interruption both seemed to be laughing about something and therefore had probably been rather distracted.

When they saw him standing in the doorway, both women half rose from their seats, Elocin instinctively reaching to her hip for a gun that was elsewhere. "Nam," the Commander preferred to use people's informal names, "what exactly is going on?"

"This is a prospective client, Commander," Nam explained with his usual acknowledgement of her rank as the sword was lowered from his neck at last.

"Hello, Mel," spoke the man as he stepped around Namialus.

"Do I know you?" asked the Commander in confusion.

"I found your message in a bottle. The one you promised to send me all those years ago."

"But it can't be you, can it?" The Commander sank into her chair as if overcome, "Doctor?"

The man hesitated a long moment before replying, "Yes."

"But your face, you've regenerated."

"Twice."

"Oh." For a moment there was complete silence interrupted only by the sound of the door closing. Finally, the Commander spoke again, this time with a slightly suspicious edge to her voice, "If you're really The Doctor, then answer this question, 'Who committed all those murders at the Intergalactic Song Contest?'"

"The answer, _Commander_, is 'Mr. Loozly.'"

"Oh, Doctor!" the Commander sprang from her seat and leapt at the man, giving him a hug. However, when she pulled back, she asked a question that seemed to dampen her enthusiasm even as her posture continued to show she trusted this man completely. "Why are you here, Doctor? You were never very interested in social calls when I knew you eleven years ago." Before the man could answer, she supplied an answer of her own. "Nam said you were a potential client. What do you need?"

Namialus walked over and tried to help Elocin put up the paperwork, although both of them knew he was really trying to give the Commander and The Doctor a smidgen of privacy at the other end of the room. A minute later the Commander left the room with their newest client. Elocin abruptly pulled the papers out of his hand, sorting them with a practiced eye in a fraction of the time it would have taken him. "Do you mind if I come up to the bridge with you?" she asked as she finished, "I don't have any interest in filling out tax forms when I know something interesting is about to happen."

Lost in thought, Namialus looked up from the wooden grain of the table with an intelligent, "What?"

"The bridge, can I hang out with you on the bridge. You are on duty in four minutes aren't you?"

"What? Oh. You know you're always welcome on the bridge, Elocin."

"And I also know it's proper to ask for permission first, which is why I always do."

An hour later Namialus sat in the command chair blankly staring at an instrument panel. Behind him, Elocin sat fidgeting in a seat by the communications panel. Every few minutes she would stand up and pace the perimeter of the bridge a few times before collapsing once more into her seat. Finally, Glitz himself came with the news, "Set course for Lotecam." As soon as the navigator plotted the course, Glitz added, "Namialus, Elocin, meeting in my office. This is going to be the biggest haul I've ever made."

When Nam arrived in Glitz's office, the Commander at once shut the door and engaged its lock. Turning a knob, she dimmed the lights to near darkness before striding over to a table with a white tile top. She inserted a data disc and at once a hologram of a tiered structure appeared above the surface of the tabletop. "This," she explained, "is the temple of Linmer. Over one hundred thousand years ago, a powerful Time Lord weapon was hidden here by a now deceased renegade Time Lord. The civilization which built the structure has long since passed. The planet is currently inhabited by two feuding nations of humanoids, and unfortunately, Linmer's Temple lies in a large forest right on the border of the two countries." Namialus looked up from the slowly spinning hologram to watch the stranger, who stood with his arms crossed near the wall. The Commander continued her presentation, "You two will penetrate the temple's defenses, find the weapon and bring it to The Doctor."

"Excuse me, love, but you left out the most important part." Glitz spoke up indignantly.

"Oh yes," the Commander rolled her eyes, "many valuable treasures are also stored within the temple; you are to assess their value and carry out the most valuable objects you can find."

"Sorry, stupid question, I'm sure," Elocin began as soon as the Commander finished, "but why can't The Doctor just go and get it himself? Surely he has the technology."

The man stepped forward to answer, "The temple of Linmer is protected by Gallifreyan technology capable of preventing my TARDIS from landing inside. And the interior is believed to be contaminated with several virulent strains of bacteria and powerful viruses capable of killing even the most healthy Time Lord, but harmless to humans. I can provide you with detailed holo-maps of the temple which should enable you to avoid the various traps within."

"Why us?" Namialus asked the question foremost in his mind. "Why just the two of us, wouldn't a large party be better?"

"I need to send only those I can trust," answered the man as Namialus leaned toward him through the hologram. "And I only want to send those I believe capable of survival."

**Author's Note: For more information about Mel's adventures during the International Song Contest with the Seventh Doctor, check out the Big Finish Audio story "Bang-Bang-A-Boom!" by Gareth Roberts and Clayton Hickman. (It happens to be a sort of Star Trek spoof and one of Fenton Hardy Fan's favorite audio adventures to date.)**


	7. Day 7: And Darkness Falls (Part 2)

As the _Nosferatu II_ neared Lotacam, Mel asked if she could see the TARDIS again. Although he hesitated, the Time Lord eventually agreed. When she first entered the familiar console room, Melanie succumbed to a tidal wave of nostalgia, failing to notice her companion walk past and into the rest of the ship. This TARDIS contained so many memories; even now she could imagine The Doctor as she first knew him, confidently steering them towards a destination other than the one he had chosen, with his multicolored outfits which she pretended to dislike, and his complaints about the carrot juice she encouraged him to drink. His second form came to mind just as readily, he would be bumbling around the console, mixing his sayings, and trying to make sure she enjoyed herself even as they stumbled into another adventure.

Lost in memories, Melanie failed to notice when The Doctor rejoined her until the man spoke, "Carrot juice?" She saw he held a glass of orange liquid.

"Yes, thank you, I haven't been able to find any since I left." She grinned at him, taking the glass. When she sipped the juice, Mel discovered a taste not quite as wonderful as she remembered. However, she hid any such thoughts rather well, instead steering the conversation in another direction. "I see you've redecorated."

"Have I?" he asked as if teasing her.

"I don't remember there being so much grey, just white as far as the eye could see." Quickly she drank more juice.

"Hm, the old girl went through a pronounced gothic phase during my last incarnation."

"Gothic? No! What did your Companion think of that?"

"Most of them didn't know the TARDIS could appear any other way."

Melanie finished off the drink in her hand. "Did Ace travel with you long?"

_Clara held up her hand with an imperial gesture to interrupt The Doctor, "Was Ace the one with the oversized black coat covered with patches and pins?"_

_"Yes, I didn't realize you knew about Ace."_

_"You told me about her before you changed, when we spent a week trapped in the Norou orbital correction facility. Don't you remember?"_

_"Of course I remember."_

_"Anyway, I'm assuming Namm- ee-al-us," Clara worked to speak the right order of syllables in the Companion's name," is about to walk in."_

_"About to walk in? No, I talked with Mel for a few hours."_

_Giving him her best Strict Schoolteacher expression, Clara exasperatedly instructed, "Doctor, keep to the point." _

When Namialus and Elocin entered the TARDIS, they startled the two people talking by the console.

"We're in orbit above Lotecam," announced Nam.

"If the TARDIS does all that the commander told me it did I'm not sure why we had to fly out here in the _Nosferatu II_, couldn't we have left at once?"

The man in the leather coat looked just the slightest bit impressed as he answered, "An astute question," he wanted to verify her name, "Elocin, I believe?"

"Yes sir," she replied at once, noticing his slight recoil at the word 'sir.'

"There is some Dalek activity nearby. The shorter our jump, the smaller the likelihood of our attracting their attention." He looked over the pair a final time before engaging the engines. Dressed in a navy blue shirt and trousers with black boots and a sword at his left side, Namialus also sported a pair of wrist guards. Leather straps ran across the young man's chest like a pair of bandoliers, and a short, bulky, and large, black blaster mounted to them behind his right shoulder. Standing to Namialus's right, Elocine wore black. The woman's jacket clearly belonged originally to someone much taller than her petite frame, a man judging from the garment's style. The black leather garment's sleeves had been rolled up to the correct length, and the right shoulder featured a leather pad studded with tarnished brass bits along the edges, which acted as a cushion for the slender and excessively long rifle she slung across her back with a strap. On each hip a small blaster pistol nestled in a quick draw holster and he could see the handle of some sort of knife rising from the top of both her boots. Unlike at the meeting, Elocin now wore her brown hair tightly braided down her back. "I'll land right outside the barrier surrounding the temple." Turning to Melanie, he asked, "Will you be joining us?"

For a moment he thought she would give her assent, but Mel only said, "No, I think I'll wait for you here if you don't mind."

"As you wish."

"Be careful you two," Mel cautioned Namialus and Elocin.

"You know we will," assured Namialus.

"Right," replied the Commander briskly, "I'll see you see you all soon." She walked out of the machine without a backward glance.

* * *

><p>Elocin seemed disappointed the journey took so little time. Still, she hurried to the pair of doors leading to Lotecam and pulled them open as soon as they landed. "Doctor," she seemed puzzled, "I don't see any structures."<p>

Namialus joined her and looked over her shoulder, "She's right."

"That's odd," replied the man with his distinctive voice, "We're barely one hundred meters from the Temple of Linmer. Even through the forest it should be visible." Pushing past them, he studied the sky, "Oh, I seem to have parked us facing away from Linmer's Temple." He stepped to the left and turned around, "Yes, there it is."

Namialus did not have to push past the woman standing in front of him, she moved before he so much as lifted a foot. Disappointingly, his first glimpse of the temple hardly impressed him. Built from stones of a dull brown color, it rose from the forest floor but did not rise taller than the trees. "I was expecting… I don't know what I expected it to look like, but not this," he complained while trying to sound like he was voicing a complaint.

"If you had taken closer notice during our briefing, you would know most of the structure is underground. Now come on, Namialus," Elocin grinned back at him before confidently striding off. "We'll be back as soon as we can, Doctor," she called over her shoulder, "but it'll probably take us at least six hours."

"The TARDIS and I will be waiting for you right here."

Namialus jogged to catch up with his partner. Soon they began to climb the stair-structured building. "I don't know why they built the entrance into the top of the temple," pulling himself up unto the penultimate ledge he continued to quietly rant, "that seems like a stupid design to me." He gave Elocin a hand up. "Almost as dumb as these increasingly tall levels, the tallest steps should be at the base of a structure, not increasing in size the closer you get to the top."

"Oh shut up and give me a boost," ordered Elocin, who stood at the base of the last level needing to be climbed, which rose above her fully raised right hand.

"Sure," Namialus held out his hands as a footrest, "up you go," he grunted as he lifted her.

Seconds later, Elocin scrambled over the top, and Namialus followed her, leaping up and grabbing the top edge with his fingertips. Once he regained his footing, Nam spotted the trapdoor leading down into the temple. Quickly he whipped out a silvery card and slid it into a slot beside the entrance. Immediately, the door soundlessly slid open. "Here we go," he muttered as he slowly lowered himself down.

* * *

><p>"Expedition Log 7, Namialus speaking. We've now been down here for almost three hours. Currently, the Leftenant and I are camped out beside a vat of acid. According to the blueprints provided to us by our client, the basin briefly empties every sixty-three minutes when the liquid is pumped through a series of pipes and acts as coolant for an engine of some sort on the floor below. Or something. I honestly got sort of confused when Leftenant Teneb explained it to me. Anyway, we don't know how many minutes we'll have to wait before the acid temporarily drains away and we can cross. Namialus out."<p>

For a few minutes the two sat in silence. Elocin ate a nutrient bar, offering him one wordlessly, but Namialus refused. Finally, she asked, "If you had to live in a story, where do you think you would fit in?"

"What?" Namialus could not even begin to imagine what prompted such an inquiry.

"Imagine you had to move into a fictional world, where would you belong?" rephrased Elocin.

"I—that is the weirdest question anyone has ever asked me in all my life," exclaimed Nam as Elocin giggled. Namialus was not entirely certain twenty-seven years old people were still supposed to engage in such behavior as giggling, but women generally seemed to think it was perfectly normal. "I don't know," he decided to take the easy way out, "where do you think I would fit in?"

"The Commander has a bunch of data chips full of books from Earth, from before it became Ravalox. I've read them all over the years, and I think I would place you in Camelot. You would make a wonderful knight errant."

"A what?" Namialus began to feel increasingly left out of the loop.

"A roving warrior who fights on behalf of the wronged and weak. I don't know that I'd call you a soldier, but you are certainly a warrior, Nam. Very honorable."

"And how about you?" he spun her own question back, "where would Elocin Teneb fit in?"

"Oh, I would be one of Robin Hood's merry men." Seeing his confusion, she elaborated, "They were a group of outlaws fighting a corrupt system and a usurping prince. They hid in the forest and stole from those with dishonest wealth to redistribute it among the downtrodden. And most of them were quite good at fighting with at least one of the weapon types of their day. But the best part, the best part is that they survive and conquer by stealth and guile rather than brute force."

"You're right, you would be happy there." Hearing a slurping noise, Namialus raised a hand, "We need to be ready to move."

"Right."


End file.
